Seating Arrangements
by Mandy15
Summary: Some names go together.


A/N: Written for the Thursday100 'Before They Were Stars' challenge on LJ.

Disclaimer: Not mine, no infringement intended.

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Seating Arrangements  
  
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During his engagement, Deakins had sat with his wife-to-be and planned the wedding. An activity that seemed to swallow hours of life at a time, until he was almost catatonic with boredom and Melissa was fed up with his sulking.  
  
But now it came back to him, something that had seemed so monumentally unimportant at the time: seating arrangements.  
  
Melissa had carefully explained that her second-cousin-through-marriage Bob could not be seated next to her great-uncle's-wife's-best-friend's-husband Frank because they'd had a brawl one thanksgiving and were still holding a grudge. Or something like that. Her college roommate's husband had a body odour problem and Aunty Twitter (or Twitley, or Twenter or something) had an extremely strong sense of smell and delicate sensibilities.  
  
Melissa had asked what small, obscure details he knew about his family to make the reception go off without a hitch, and Deakins had told her not to sit his father next to his mother because after a couple of drinks they got disgustingly amorous and it made him a little queasy.  
  
That had been the last of that.  
  
But now he was trying to desperately remember how Melissa had the grace and skill to accomplish a happy, unfettered and crisis-free gathering of people.  
  
He sneaked a glance at his phone, knowing she'd just be getting home from squash with her friend Amanda, but decided against calling for advice. Twenty years on was not too late for an 'I told you so'.  
  
Which left him with four files and no idea what to do.  
  
He triesd to pep talk himself through it: he was the newly appointed captain of the Major Case Squad at just 44 years of age. He'd had a long and fine career with the NYPD, culminating in a new posting and four new detectives, first grade.  
  
Four new detectived who needed partners. Four personnel files, and this was _so_ much harder than planning a wedding.  
  
Alex Eames, Joe Faralli, Bobby Goren and Jack O'Riley. He had requested all four. Fresh meat on the eleventh floor, but he'd forgotten about the whole 'partner' thing.  
  
Deakins spread the files across his desk again, and thought about doing a face-plant into them. Or trying Eenie-Meanie on them. It had been a vital part of the decision-making process of his children's lives for years, so why couldn't it work for him?  
  
Because Eames was a hard ass, Faralli was ambitious, Goren was an oddball and O'Riley went by the book. It worked well for the individual, but messing up the assignments could be hazardous to his mental health.  
  
The most obvious conclusion was that O'Riley and Goren were out. Goren would pull one of his infamous tricks and O'Riley would sit down to write his very correct and pissed off letter of complaint to the Chief of Detectives, and Deakins wouldn't hear the end of it.   
  
Goren and Eames was also out, because Goren was a well known ladies man and Eames was not only good looking, she could shrivel a man's balls from 100 paces. Deakins didn't need that sort of conflict.  
  
Goren and Faralli was definitely out, because Faralli was a damn good cop but had his sights set high on the ladder, which would infuriate a man like Goren.  
  
Deakins stared at his pile of shuffled and rearranged files. He was no closer than before. Goren had been in trouble in every department, despite his high solve rate, because other cops just couldn't handle him. They either fought him tooth and nail, or they swanned around after him with their tongues hanging out in awe...  
  
Deakins stared. He put the Eames file next to the Goren file.  
  
He knew she had a dry wit and a sharp mind, and while the chauvinism inherent in the force got her really pissed, she could take just about anything with a grain of salt. Even the astounding Goren?  
  
And Goren, he wouldn't be stupid enough to hit on his own partner, would he? He tended to date anything that was obviously female, but Deakins had never heard of any complaints against him. If anything, the women he loved and left tended to regard him with the kind of fond affection you reserve for eight-year-old boys…  
  
Goren and Eames. Eames and Goren. Two bright minds, as different as night and day. Maybe she could keep him level and take him down a peg or two. Maybe he could treat her like a human being rather than just a skirt with a badge.  
  
Deakins smiled. Goren and Eames. He only hoped they could get along.

--fin.


End file.
